Thorn's Shadow
by Not Enough Answers
Summary: Sometimes you meet someone purely by accident. She knew him as a child, but would he spare her as an adult? It didn't seem very likely. Michael Myers/OC NOW ABANDONED.
1. The Beginning of it All

**Finally, my first Halloween fanfiction! I've wanted to write this for a while.**

**It will eventually become Michael/OC, but I just want to warn you that this will not be a fluffy romance where Michael will be "redeemed by love" and skip off into the sunset. I don't know for sure how dark it's going to get in future chapters, so this might be moved to an M rating at any point. Please don't let that deter you from reading, however.**

**The fic will be divided into two parts: "Before" and "After". The initial part details the first six years of Michael's life, up to when he kills Judith. The second part will skip seventeen years to Halloween 1980. It will be compliant with Halloween 1-6 and the Curse/Cult of Thorn will play a major part in this story. However, I have taken liberties with that and instead of the curse being hereditary, the members of the Cult of Thorn are the only ones who can "administer" it, so to speak. This prologue goes into greater deal about how I manipulated everything. I guess it can be considered AU.**

**Now, I hope you got through all of that and aren't bored already. Please be patient, as the fic will develop slowly.**

**DISCLAIMER: I own nothing except for the Callahans and my ideas.**

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><p><em><strong>PART 1: BEFORE<strong>_

**September 1957**

Haddonfield wasn't used to strangers.

Whenever a new face appeared in town, gossip would spread like wildfire. The curious residents would eagerly discuss the matter amongst themselves, sometimes for days. Countless rumors would be spread—she's the estranged daughter-in-law of the town sheriff, he's the illegitimate son of the mayor—until one brave soul would finally step up and ask the newcomer what they were doing in Haddonfield. "It's a godforsaken place in the middle of nowhere!" everyone would exclaim. "Five and a half hours from Chicago and deserted country roads all the way! There's got to be a _reason _for a stranger coming here."

And, generally, there was. Family visits were the most common, followed by lost travelers and disgruntled hitchhikers. The quaint hotel in the middle of town was always deserted—tourists didn't come to Haddonfield. After all, why would they want to? Nothing stood out about it; there were no claims to fame. In fact, some maps of Illinois missed Haddonfield completely. It was a running joke among the townspeople that they lived in a ghost town. "The president would miss us even if he drove right through here!" was a common refrain.

But the residents' jokes were always good-natured and their tones friendly. Even though a larger city like Chicago or even Springfield would be preferable to most people, they wouldn't change their home for the world.

So, when a young, unfamiliar pregnant woman was seen wandering around Main Street, rumors immediately started to fly. She didn't look lost, and appeared to be in fairly good health. Who was she?

The speculation continued for another day before the truth was finally revealed: Minnie Blankenship, the town gossip, had gone over to the new woman's house and introduced herself. In exchange for a platter of chocolate chip cookies and a willing ear, the new arrival had explained her story.

Her name was Ingrid Callahan (a nice, respectable name, the women thought) and she was originally from Los Angeles. She'd married young and shortly after she discovered she was pregnant, her husband, a college professor, was killed in a car crash. Grieving and heartbroken, Ingrid moved to Haddonfield to live near her elderly parents. She bought a house several streets away from them and was planning to raise her child in a safe, small-town environment.

The tragic story drew many well-wishers to her door and Mrs. Callahan was soon bombarded with invitations and dinner requests. She was both surprised and flattered at the welcome she'd received and was accepted warmly into the tight-knit community.

Even though she made many new friends, she was closest with her neighbors. The Myers family had lived in the same house for generations and their history was deeply interlinked with the town. Donald Myers, a highly respected man, was a doctor at the local hospital and Edith Myers had briefly been a preschool teacher before her marriage. They had an eleven-year-old daughter, Judith, with a second child on the way.

Originally, the two women bonded over their pregnancies (Edith was eight months pregnant, Ingrid seven) and as they got closer they discovered shared interests. However, Edith's second pregnancy was proving to be a difficult one and twice Ingrid rushed her to the hospital in fear she was going into early labor. After both times proved false alarms, Edith's unborn child stopped moving altogether and she began to worry if she'd suffered a miscarriage. Ingrid watched over her carefully, feeling guilty about her own smooth pregnancy in comparison.

One beautiful day in late September, Ingrid managed to coax Edith into taking a walk. "A bit of fresh air will do you good," she said. Edith reluctantly agreed and the two women set off.

They'd only been walking for five minutes when Ingrid caught sight of a man staring at them. He was tall and white-haired, walking with a slight stoop. "Who is that?" she whispered to Edith.

The other woman immediately gasped and her hands flew to her stomach. "It can't be," she murmured, her face draining of all color. "It can't…"

Worried, Ingrid took Edith's arm and gently led her around the corner, out of sight of the man. They sat gingerly down on a nearby bench. "Should I call the police?"

Edith shook her head. "They won't understand. I just can't believe he discovered…" She began to weep quietly.

Ingrid waited until her sobs had ceased before saying, "Tell me everything. I promise I will keep the secret."

Wringing her hands in her lap, Edith looked down at her enormous stomach. The baby was due in less than two weeks. "His name is Terence Wynn. It's an old family grudge," she said quietly. "My great-grandfather was the mayor of Haddonfield fifty years ago. He accused Wynn's grandfather, Archibald, of worshipping the devil and belonging to a cult. The townspeople burned the entire family at the stake. Before he died, Archibald Wynn vowed that his descendants would wipe out my grandfather's entire family line in vengeance."

"Maybe it's just a myth," Ingrid said soothingly. "You can't possibly think—"

But Edith looked vehement. "This happened only fifty years ago. Some of the people here still remember it. _I_ didn't believe anything until I was fourteen. Terence's father followed me home one night and tried to kill me. He was sent to jail, and I thought this was over…but now I know that was his son."

"Are you sure he's trying to kill you?"

Edith nodded. "The Wynns are members of the Cult of Thorn, a tribe of druids. They have the power to afflict people with the Curse of Thorn. Once infected, that person will systematically kill their entire family. The members find that more entertaining than killing their intended victims themselves."

Ingrid blinked in shock, trying to digest what she had just heard. "Do people actually…_believe _that?" she asked slowly.

"Most don't. They just know there's a grudge between my family and the Wynns. Terence Wynn is the only living descendant of Archibald left. I thought I was safe. I didn't know he'd try to come after me…"

"Listen, let's go back home and I'll ring the police, okay? They'll find Terence and send him to jail." Ingrid patted her shoulders.

"No, they won't, because they don't have any evidence to convict him!" Edith cried. "Nobody believes that the Curse of Thorn is real. Even Donald laughs about it. But they don't understand…I was nearly cursed myself."

Ingrid was beginning to think that Edith was cursed with _something_, all right, but she refrained from voicing her thoughts. "It's all right," she said, trying her hardest to sound comforting. "Let's just go home."

Edith was nearly hysterical by the time Ingrid brought her back, and refused to leave the house until her baby was born. The local psychiatrist examined her and dismissed the hysteria as being merely a side-effect of the pregnancy, restricting her to constant bedrest. Ingrid tried to visit as often as she could, but her own pregnancy was beginning to confine _her _to constant bedrest.

Eventually Donald decided to humor his wife and ordered the police to search the area for Terence Wynn. They did so half-heartedly, and unsurprisingly he was never found. The town dismissed the entire case as the ravings of a pregnant woman's mind and no more was heard of the matter for a very long time.


	2. Wynn's Proposal

**October 1957**

Late at night on the seventeenth of October, Edith Myers went into labor. Ingrid was woken up by the screeching of ambulance sirens and the annoyed shouts of the spoiled Judith, who was a thoroughly unpleasant child and every parent's worst nightmare. Ingrid stumbled to the window just in time to see Donald helping Edith onto a stretcher. Judith's arms were crossed and she was scowling, glaring at Edith as if it was all her fault that _she_ was awake at this hour. The three of them eventually climbed into the ambulance and it sped away, lights flashing and illuminating the darkened street.

Ingrid stared out the window for a long time after they disappeared, feeling the enthusiastic kicks of her baby and wishing Henry Callahan was still alive to help _her _into the ambulance when the time came. All she could do now was pray that her child wouldn't turn out like Judith. Ingrid knew she wouldn't be able to handle something like that on her own-why _was_ Judith so unlikeable, anyway? Her parents were good people and from what she'd seen, they had raised her well. Some children were just bad eggs, she supposed, and nothing would ever be able to change them.

Edith was reportedly in labor for thirty-six hours. Documents from the hospital later stated that the birth was "grueling" and her screams could be heard from down the hall, terrifying the doctors and nurses on duty at the time.

Almost two days later, on October nineteenth, her son was finally born. Donald named him Michael Audrey Myers and he weighed five pounds, three ounces.

When the family came home from the hospital Edith went over to Ingrid's house straight away. "Have you seen him?" she asked at once.

Ingrid knew she wasn't talking about Michael. She glanced down at the tiny bundle in Edith's arms and marveled at how _calm _he seemed, like he'd already been through this ordeal many times before and was patiently waiting everything out. "No, I haven't," she finally said. "Wynn would have shown up by now, Edith."

It was hard to tell whether Edith looked relieved or anxious. "He will," she said ominously. Then she turned around and walked away without so much as a goodbye. Ingrid raised a hand in farewell, but when she didn't get a response back she sighed and shut the door, leaning her head against the wood and closing her eyes.

All Ingrid could hope for now was that a new baby would manage to distract Mrs. Myers from her newfound obsession.

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><p><strong>November 1957<strong>

Just under a month later, on November fifteenth, Ingrid gave birth to a daughter. To her relief, the birth was much easier than Edith's and she was discharged from the hospital within a day. The baby girl was named Serena Ingrid Callahan and she was the spitting image of her father: dark-haired and blue-eyed. Her mother's heart ached every time she looked at her.

To everyone's relief, Edith had finally quieted about the Curse of Thorn. Ingrid was able to take walks with her without a mention of Terence Wynn. Michael seemed to be sufficiently distracting her.

"He's an odd baby," Edith said one day while they were pushing the two infants in their strollers. "He hardly cries. Didn't even make a sound when he was born."

"You're lucky, then," Ingrid replied dryly. "Serena never stops crying." She paused to check on her three-week-old daughter who was fidgeting around in her stroller, unhappy with being forced to sit still.

"Sometimes I wish Mikey was more normal," admitted Edith. She'd lost a significant amount of weight since the birth, and her eyes were wide against the sunken hollowness of her face. Her hands fidgeted nervously on the handle of the stroller. "All he does is stare at everything. It's like he understands more than I do."

Ingrid would never admit it, but she felt unnerved by Michael. Something about him was unsettling. Even though he looked like a normal baby, with tousled blond hair and dark eyes, she was secretly glad he wasn't _her _son. She wanted to clutch Serena closer whenever he came near, but didn't want to seem rude to Edith.

"How are Donald and Judith coping with him?" Ingrid asked. "They must be pleased he's so easy to take care of."

Edith shrugged noncommittally. "Donald's almost never at home anyway, and Judith…well, she's almost twelve. You know how girls of that age are. All they care about are clothes and boys. She wants nothing to do with Mikey and refuses to hold him."

"Maybe she's jealous," Ingrid suggested. "She's been an only child for eleven years. It must be difficult to have the focus suddenly switched onto someone else."

They walked down a small path lined with bare trees, a sure sign of the coming winter. The cold wind snapped at their exposed flesh and lone snowflakes drifted down from the gray sky.

Serena shrieked when she noticed the falling flakes, reaching out to grab them with her chubby hands. Tears welled up in her eyes when her tries proved unsuccessful.

Ingrid stopped and bent over her, whispering comforting words. Serena continued to wail, the sound building up to an agonizing crescendo. Edith winced and looked down at Michael, hoping he wouldn't join in, but as always he was perfectly silent.

"It's going to be a sleepless year," Ingrid sighed when she finally managed to calm her daughter down. Serena's eyes were a puffy red and her tiny hands were balled up into fists.

The women were so busy focusing on the babies that they didn't notice a suspiciously familiar man approaching them from Mrs. Blankenship's house. He stood behind Edith for a moment before politely clearing his throat.

Ingrid had just enough time to snatch Michael from Edith's arms before she dropped him. It was almost a comical sight: Edith looking absolutely petrified as she scrambled away from the newcomer, nearly knocking over the strollers in the process; and Ingrid struggling to balance the babies in each arm. Serena's momentarily quelled cries started up again.

"I am terribly sorry," Terence Wynn apologized at once, looking stricken. "I didn't mean to startle you."

"What do you want?" Ingrid asked more rudely than she intended. Her arms were fast getting tired from the combined weight of Michael and Serena.

"I wanted to talk to Mrs. Myers, actually." Wynn nodded at Edith, who was as white as a sheet. She looked as if she'd just seen the devil.

"You can talk to me as well," said Ingrid firmly. "I know everything."

She stressed the word _everything_, making it clear exactly what she knew about Edith's strange behavior. Wynn turned back to her and he gave a slight nod. "I hope your friend knows I'm not going to do her any harm," he said casually. "Actually, that's what I came here to talk to you about."

As if on cue, Serena's tears quieted to a dull sniffle. Ingrid quickly kissed her on the top of the head, but kept her eyes on Wynn. Edith had gone completely still.

"I know our families don't have the most amiable of friendships," Wynn began with a smile. "I am deeply ashamed of what my father tried to do all those years ago, and I want you to know that I have no intention of harming you in any way. I would like to end this rift between us once and for all."

"Why did you come here now?" Edith whispered. Her voice was barely audible.

"I recently took the post of administrator at Smith's Grove Sanatorium not far from here, and one day I decided I would explore Haddonfield. It's quite a quaint little town. I'm leaving tomorrow for the sanatorium, and decided I should try to make amends today, since I'm not sure when I'll be able to come back." Wynn's attention was focused solely on Edith now, imploring her to listen. "My father died last month, and since I don't have any children, my death will mark the end of this age-old rift. So what do you say, Mrs. Myers? Will you forgive my grandfather and father?"

Ingrid watched Edith's reaction carefully. At first she looked shocked, then confused. Slowly her expression changed to one of mixed distrust and hope. "You mean you won't try to harm me or my family?"

If either of the women had been more perceptive, they would have noticed Wynn's face twitch as he said, "That is my last intention, ma'am. I only wish to make peace."

After a long, hesitant silence, Edith finally nodded. "We'll call a truce then."

Wynn looked relieved. He held out a hand toward Edith. Her discomfort was obvious, but even so she briefly shook his hand before taking several steps back. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Myers and…er…"

"Mrs. Callahan," Ingrid offered.

He smiled at her. "Mrs. Callahan. Minnie was telling me about you. I'm sorry to hear of your loss. Growing up without a father is difficult."

Ingrid shrugged. "I'll raise Serena with nothing but good memories of him."

Wynn tipped his hat to her before looking over at Michael. "And this must be _your _son, Mrs. Myers. He looks exactly like you. How old is he?"

"His name is Michael and he's seven weeks old," Edith replied, reaching out to take him from Ingrid. "Sometimes I think he's smarter than all of us combined."

Again, neither of the women noticed the hungry look in Wynn's eyes. He stared at Michael for a long moment. The infant stared right back, and for a second it was almost as if a connection had passed between both pairs of dark eyes. Then Wynn turned away. "I must go," he said abruptly. "Good day to you both." With a swish of his coat, he was gone.

Ingrid lowered Serena back into her stroller, mind racing. She was left with an uneasy feeling that she couldn't quite place, but she couldn't help thinking Wynn hadn't been entirely truthful.

On the other hand, Edith looked more relaxed than ever. She whistled a little tune and patted Michael on the back. "It looks like I don't have to worry anymore," she said brightly. "I feel foolish now that I was so worried three months ago."

"You don't have to feel foolish," Ingrid mumbled. She stared at the spot where Wynn had disappeared. "It was just instinct."

But she wondered if Edith had been right in the first place—something was off about Terence Wynn. She just couldn't quite place her finger on it. But if Edith was content, then that was all that mattered. The Curse of Thorn was just a silly superstition—nothing more.

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><p><strong>I haven't seen all of the Halloween movies-only 1-6 and <em>Resurrection<em>-so there might be some conflicting information in the fic or the movies might state something different...Anyway, please let me know if you spot any errors or if Michael is acting OOC. I haven't read many Michael/OC fics, so I'm not aware of the cliches in this fandom. If I do include something you feel is cliche or an overused plot, don't hesitate to tell me what you think! Feedback is always appreciated, even if it's not completely positive.**

**That being said, do you have any fics that you /would/ recommend? I've been browsing the archive for a while but haven't found any that have really caught my attention...I know it's a tiny fandom compared to, say, _Harry Potter_ or _Twilight_, but there are probably a few that I haven't read that are worth checking out.**

**I'm not sure how long this story will be when it's completed...perhaps around a hundred thousand words? Don't quote me on that, though-despite having the story all planned out, things are liable to change and I usually add or delete certain scenes. I'm also not sure how long it will take me to finish it. Some stories I finish within a few months and others take me years...so my readers have learned to be patient! :D I'm really interested in this story now, though, so I don't think it should take me /too/ long.**

**Thank you to all my reviewers thus far: Michelle Myers, horrorfreak101, Maddie Rose, SecretsAreNoFun, and VampireSiren! I should be updating again soon!**


	3. Chicago

**October 1958**

For Michael's first birthday, the Myers family went on a vacation to Chicago. Edith invited Ingrid and Serena along, mainly because Ingrid hadn't left Haddonfield at all since she'd moved there and she thought a change of routine would do her friend some good.

Ingrid refused at first, but after Edith's constant reassurances that it would be healthy for both her and Serena, she finally agreed. They would stay at a ritzy hotel downtown for two nights and take in the sights of the big city.

Judith, of course, was thrilled. She was now twelve and under the impression the entire world revolved around her. In fact, she even invited two of her friends along, claiming that the trip was for _her _birthday, not Michael's. Donald and Edith quickly shot down that idea and Judith sulked in her room for a week. When she thought her parents weren't looking, she grabbed Michael from his crib and took him to the backyard where she hid him under a bush. "I hope they never find you," she hissed at him before running away.

However, being the strange baby he was, Michael simply crawled straight back to the house where an astonished Edith met him sitting by the back door. Since she believed Judith was at a friend's, she assumed Michael had somehow gotten out on his own.

Edith explained the story to a bemused Ingrid during the five-hour drive to Chicago. Both women marveled at the oddity of the entire situation. Michael could crawl and was learning to walk, but he still hadn't said a single word. This was in stark contrast to Serena, who happily babbled in baby-talk any chance she could and shrieked "Mama!" every ten seconds. Her constant chattering was beginning to give Ingrid headaches, and she would even beg Edith to take care of Serena when she couldn't bear it anymore.

To try and lift up her morale, Edith not-so-subtly introduced her to all the young, single men around town she could find. Unfortunately, most of the men's interest waned once they realized Ingrid already had a child. Besides, the young widow didn't seem to be interested in finding another husband. Her life was devoted solely to Serena.

Edith realized Ingrid was falling into depression, and she tried as hard as she could to stop her downward spiral. This was what led to her insisting Ingrid come along on the Chicago trip. Haddonfield was a pleasant place to live, but it became suffocating if one stayed there forever.

So far, it was four hours into the trip and to Edith's relief her friend was starting to lighten up. Ingrid's eyes grew more animated and her smiles wider as the tiny houses and farms gave way to larger buildings and bigger cities. She'd grown up in the urban sprawl of Los Angeles, where skyscrapers dominated the horizon. Seeing familiar sights made her relax.

The general mood in the car, though, was anything _but_ relaxed. Donald was beginning to lose his temper after an hour of slow traffic; Judith was still sulking for not getting her way; Serena was impatient at having to sit still for so long; and Edith was worried it would become dark before they reached the hotel.

"Maybe this wasn't such a good idea," she said nervously as Donald took a turn so sharply the car almost rolled right over.

"I'm sure things will be fine," Ingrid replied, turning from the worrier to the comforter. "We're almost there."

Edith didn't look so convinced, but Ingrid was proven right when they reached the hotel twenty minutes later. It was a towering, modern building that overlooked the lake and offered stunning views of the city.

The six tourists all tumbled out of the car at once. Judith, who had only been to Chicago once before, was practically jumping up and down. "Can we go sightseeing, Daddy, _please_?" she begged. "I promise I'll be good."

Donald glanced down at his watch. "It's getting late, honey. It would be dark in Haddonfield by now."

"So?" Judith pressed. "We're not in Haddonfield anymore. Besides, all the lights will—"

"The babies are getting cranky, and we need to have dinner," Edith said, effectively ending the conversation. By _babies _she meant Serena, who was dangerously close to crying. She wasn't used to the loud noises and bright lights that her small brain was frantically trying to process.

Judith huffed angrily and crossed her arms, muttering something that sounded like "_Hate_ my parents." She stomped ahead into the hotel, leaving the three adults to carry all the luggage in themselves.

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><p>Another half hour passed before everyone was settled in. Donald had managed to reserve two adjoining rooms so they could move freely between both. However, listening to Judith's screams next door, Ingrid secretly wished she and Serena were on a different floor. But she'd volunteered to take care of Michael while Edith and Donald dealt with their oldest child, so it looked like she would just have to grin and bear it.<p>

As she waited for the argument to subside, Ingrid watched Serena valiantly try to open the window. She'd crawled over to the opposite end of the room and managed to stand up, but she couldn't reach the handle. Her face scrunched up and she whimpered pathetically.

Ingrid was about to go over to her when she saw Michael had beaten her to it. Even though he'd just turned a year old, he was remarkably steady on his feet. Walking over to Serena, he stopped in front of her and held out one of her teddy bears.

She frowned, deliberating what to do. For a moment, it looked as if she was going to cry anyway, but she ended up grabbing the bear and waddling away as fast as her legs would carry her. Michael silently watched her go.

Ingrid was thunderstruck. How on earth could he have had the sense to do that? It was remarkable. Serena certainly wouldn't have done that for _him_.

When Edith finally came to collect her son, Ingrid explained what he'd done in an awed tone. Her friend didn't look surprised. "I told you, he's smarter than all of us combined."

Ingrid couldn't help herself. "Is that why Wynn was so interested in him?"

"I think so," Edith said quietly. "But that's all in the past. I haven't seen him in months."

"Hopefully you never will again," Ingrid tried to sound convincing.

Neither of them knew just how ironic that conversation would turn out to be.

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><p><strong>Sorry not much happens, but I promised I would update today and this is what I have. The plot will definitely gain momentum in the next chapter.<strong>

**Oh, and to answer a question some of you have been wondering about...Michael is not afflicted with the Curse of Thorn as of this chapter. My take on it is that he's a child genius, which explains his odd behavior. So for now...he's just a really smart baby. He's not evil yet. XD**

**And a big thanks to my reviewers for the previous chapter: shinigami777, Michelle Myers, missjade11, ThereAre666Ways2Love, Luv4RobPattz, ghgj, and SecretsAreNoFun! You guys are the best! **


	4. Suspicious Trip

**I haven't abandoned this story! It will definitely be finished. Thanks for your kind reviews and support. I hope you're still reading this! **

**Thank you to my reviewers: Michelle Myers, Azalia Fox Knightling, shinigami777, SecretsAreNoFun, zzz, Lauren Kassidy, michael myers lover, Interested, Mason and Alex, and SO cute!**

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><p>Breakfast the next morning was a quiet, muted affair. No one had gotten much sleep and the entire party had been roused by Serena's loud cries almost every hour. Edith and Ingrid were staring blankly out the window, Donald was trying to read the newspaper, but he kept losing his place and had to start over, Judith was stabbing at her food angrily with a fork, and Serena refused to eat. She was exhausted and unhappy at being in unfamiliar surroundings. "Mama," she kept repeating. "Home."<p>

"Sweetie, we're not going home for a while," Ingrid said, suppressing a yawn. She glanced absent-mindedly around the hotel restaurant and her eyes fell on a familiar face that was looking directly at them.

As if on cue, Serena twisted her head around to see what her mother was staring at and she giggled, pointing a chubby finger at Wynn. "Man!" she said happily, pleased at being able to use a new word.

Edith turned around too and her eyes widened. "What's he doing here?" she whispered to Ingrid.

"I don't know, but he's coming this way," her friend murmured back. She placed a hand protectively on Serena's head.

Terence Wynn wove his away around several tables before coming to a stop beside Michael. The birthday boy, who was always silent, let out a quick breath of air in what could only be described as a sigh. Judith narrowed her eyes at him. "What do you want, weirdo?"

"Judith, don't be rude," Donald warned, thinking she was talking to Wynn.

"Good morning, Mr. Wynn," Ingrid said hesitantly. "How are you?"

"I am well, and yourselves?" He smiled at the assembled group. "What a coincidence that we ran into each other like this. What brings you all to Chicago?"

"We're celebrating Michael's first birthday," answered Edith. "I'm not sure how he feels about the trip, though."

Wynn bent over and inspected the boy closely. "He doesn't seem to be complaining," he chuckled. "My, both babies have grown since I last saw them! In fact they can hardly be called _babies _anymore."

Seeing as how Serena wasn't even a year old yet, Ingrid was sure he was only trying to win them over with empty flattery. She didn't know why he was in Chicago at the same time they were, at the same hotel. It seemed a rather odd coincidence.

"How is your new job going?" Donald asked, putting down his paper. He surreptitiously looked over at his wife, apprehensive she would have a fit like the last time.

"Quite well, thank you," replied Wynn. "Smith's Grove is a very welcoming place. I enjoy rehabilitating the patients there." He stole another glance at Michael.

Now Ingrid was becoming even more suspicious. She was relieved when Judith whined, "I want to go sightseeing _now_."

"All right," Edith said, pushing her uneaten breakfast away and scooping up Michael. "We should be on our way now, Dr. Wynn. It was nice seeing you, though."

"The feeling is mutual," he said, smiling benignly at them as they got up and left the restaurant.

"I didn't like that," Ingrid muttered as they stepped out onto the busy street, instantly getting swallowed up into the crowd. "It seemed a little _too _coincidental."

"What's he trying to do, anyway?" Edith asked. "He said that he wanted to make peace."

"Perhaps he was here on business," Ingrid replied doubtfully. "Just try to forget about it."

The topic was dropped then, but hung like a black cloud over both women's heads for the rest of the day, unspoken but silently acknowledged.

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><p>On their walk around the city that afternoon they became hopelessly lost, Donald not wanting to bring a map along beforehand. The three adults went inside a nearby building to ask for directions, leaving Judith to look after Michael and Serena.<p>

Rolling her eyes at her parents' stupidity (she'd _told _them to turn left, not right!) Judith pushed the strollers over to a nearby bench and sat down, crossing her arms huffily. Serena was fast asleep, and she hoped to God the stupid baby would stay that way, because she would not shut up when she was awake.

As time wore on, Judith began to feel more and more annoyed. The adults still hadn't come back and she was hungry and tired. On the other side of the street, she spotted a hotdog vendor. Judith reached into her pocket and pulled out a dollar—more than enough for a hotdog and a cold drink. Casting a dark glance at the babies, "Stay there," she ordered, inwardly laughing to herself—what could they do, wheel themselves away?—and headed across the street.

The second her back was turned, two men dressed in white walked past the strollers. Wynn pulled his sunglasses off and turned to his associate, Dr. Bonham. "This is the boy I was telling you about," he said in a low voice. "Michael Myers."

"He certainly looks the part, doesn't he?" Dr. Bonham asked, bending down to get a closer look at the baby. Michael watched him emotionlessly. "When were you planning on doing it?"

"Not now," Wynn said. "He's too young, and I've never performed the ritual on a child. I'll wait a few years and see how he turns out." Smiling, he continued, "I'm curious to see how long it will take him to get rid of his family."

"You're not going to choose the girl instead-Judith-right?" Dr. Bonham said.

Wynn laughed out loud. "Absolutely not. It would be a blessing to have her killed, by her own brother, no less. We'll just have to wait a little bit longer."

"So you've been following them around?"

Wynn nodded. "Edith needs to get what's coming to her. It's time I finally avenged my grandfather. My father is counting on me."

"Are you sure this will work?"

"Of course I'm sure," Wynn snapped, suddenly annoyed. "Do you think I haven't been planning this for years?"

"Do you want to mark the other baby as well?" asked Dr. Bonham.

Wynn shook his head. "There's no point to it. If she stays close to Myers then he'll eventually kill her. Besides, the residents would get suspicious if two children suddenly started killing their families."

"Hey!" Judith yelled. The two men looked up to see her walking back toward them, a scowl on her face. "What are you doing?"

"Let's go," Wynn muttered, and they disappeared quickly back the way they came.

Judith jogged up to the strollers, feeling relieved that she wouldn't get into trouble. When the adults came back and Edith asked if anything had happened, she swallowed the last bit of hotdog and answered, "No, Mom. Nothing."


	5. Mrs Blankenship

**December 1960**

Luckily for Edith, no more was heard of Wynn for a very long time. Life eventually settled into a fairly normal pattern for Ingrid, with no more worries about strange curses or cults. Since she was a single mother, she was on child support, but that wasn't enough to sustain them and she became a housekeeper for one of the town's wealthy families while leaving Serena with her grandparents for most of the day.

However, when Serena was two years old, Ingrid's father passed away, with her mother following soon after. Ingrid passed the toddler on to Edith to take care of, who was more than happy to oblige. Serena spent a large majority of her time at the Myers house anyway, and was almost like a second daughter to Edith.

As she grew older, Serena tried to escape her crib. Once she did manage to climb over the bars, but fell with a resounding crash to the hard wood floor below. She immediately screamed bloody murder and Edith ran upstairs straight away. Serena was crying her eyes out on the floor, while Michael peered through the bars of his crib, watching the whole ordeal with unusually alert eyes.

Serena also learned to speak earlier than most children. She would chatter on to anyone who listened, to the point where the adults around her became annoyed. Ingrid seemed to be the only person who would pay her any mind, but her work schedule kept her from spending as much time with her daughter as she liked.

As it had been ever since she was a baby, Serena spent most of her time in Michael's room. She eventually graduated to a playpen and learned to amuse herself. Edith was initially glad that Serena was so outgoing—she hoped the little girl would help coax Michael out of his shell. He almost never cried and still hadn't uttered a word by the time he was three years old. The Myers's even took him to a child psychiatrist, but to no avail. He would speak when he was ready, everyone said. But no one could deny there was something extremely unsettling about the boy.

Serena, on the other hand, made up for the both of them with her incessant chatter. Michael's constant silence didn't deter her one bit, and she often carried on one-sided conversations with him. He would merely stare back at her with his dark eyes. "Why don't you talk?" she asked him once. When he continued just sitting there, she threw a toy car at him in hopes he would get angry. It bounced off his shoulder and fell onto the floor.

Excited, Serena crawled to the edge of her playpen and waited eagerly. Whenever she threw things at grownups, they would get mad and yell at her. But to her disappointment and confusion, Michael didn't move an inch. He looked down at the toy, then back up at her. "Talk!" she finally shouted, angry and frustrated. The three-year-old still didn't move a muscle.

Serena began to cry. Edith poked her head inside at the noise. "What is it?" she asked.

"He won't talk!" she wailed.

"Sweetie, that's just the way Mikey is," Edith answered gently. "He'll talk when he wants to."

Serena turned back to him. "Can you hear me?"

She huffed and pouted when there was, predictably, still no response from the other child. Edith withdrew from the room, pretending to be amused but in reality worrying about her son, who would be starting preschool in a year. If he still hadn't uttered a word by then, what would she do?

Back in Michael's room, Serena wiggled her way out of her playpen and toddled over to him. "Want to play?" she asked, holding out one of her dolls.

Michael reached behind him and picked up the car she had thrown at him, handing it back to her. Serena smiled, happy to have at least gotten a reaction from him. She placed one of her dolls on top of the cars and pushed them around the floor, completely distracted.

When Edith came back into the room, she saw that Serena was happily playing by herself and Michael was sitting in the corner watching her. "Come on, guys," she said, picking up Serena with one arm and taking Michael's hand with the other. "Let's go for a walk."

* * *

><p>It was the beginning of winter, and one of the coldest days Haddonfield had ever experienced. The two toddlers were bundled up as much as Edith could possibly wrap them in, with only their eyes exposed. Michael didn't seem daunted by the countless layers of clothing he now wore, while Serena didn't like the constricted feeling and eagerly pulled at the straps on her stroller in an attempt to wrestle free.<p>

Halfway through the walk, Edith remembered she had to return some cookbooks that she'd borrowed from Minnie Blankenship months ago. She pushed the strollers up to the Blankenship house and knocked on the door.

A frail old lady opened it, leaning on her walker. "Hello, Mrs. Myers," she said, voice croaky. "How are you?"

"I'm fine, thanks," said Edith. "Would you mind watching over Michael and Serena while I run back home and get the cookbooks I borrowed? They'll be fine."

"Of course," Mrs. Blankenship agreed. "I'd be glad to."

Serena was all too happy to shed her snowsuit and run inside the house. Mrs. Blankenship didn't pay the little girl any mind; her attention was all on Michael. "Do you still not want to talk?" she asked him. When there was no response, she nodded to herself, smiling slightly. "Fine then. Let's go inside."

Her house was a typical elderly lady's home—stuffy and reeking of mothballs, with nondescript furniture and vague paintings of the countryside on the walls. Serena spotted a Siamese cat sleeping on the couch. With an excited shriek, she began to chase after it, ignoring its annoyed yowls.

"How old are you now? Three?" she asked him.

Michael nodded.

Mrs. Blankenship sat on the couch and poured a cup of tea. "It must be annoying having to stick around with that girl all the time," she said.

The boy didn't respond. He stared into Mrs. Blankenship's eyes with a look that would have terrified most people, but the elderly woman didn't flinch. "She's not like you, Michael. You've noticed that, haven't you?"

There was still no response from him. Mrs. Blankenship didn't seem fazed; she instead continued, "Your family is the same as well. They don't understand you. You're special."

There was a long silence after that, only to be broken by Serena rushing back into the room, triumphantly clutching the cat. "What's his name?" she asked.

"Damian," Mrs. Blankenship said. "He scratches, so be careful."

Of course, Serena didn't pay her any heed. She unceremoniously dumped Damian back on the floor, who shot under the couch, hissing madly.

"Michael, how about getting my knitting?" Mrs. Blankenship asked. "It's in the next room, on the table."

Silently, Michael turned and left the room. As soon as he was gone, the old lady beckoned for Serena to come closer. "Sweetie, has he ever talked to you?"

Serena shook her head. "He never talks! He's really boring."

Mrs. Blankenship smiled, her suspicions confirmed. "All right, then. Thank you for telling me."

Michael came back in seconds later, placing the half-completed shawl and needles next to Mrs. Blankenship. She noticed that he was looking at the needles with interest—Wynn had certainly picked a winner there. It would be all too easy for him.

Edith arrived back not long after with the cookbooks. Mrs. Blankenship bid goodbye to them as they left—Michael, of course, didn't react, and Serena waved as they went back down the drive.

As soon as the three of them had disappeared, Mrs. Blankenship went back into the house and picked up the phone, dialing as fast as her arthritis-riddled fingers would allow.

"Terence Wynn," a male voice answered on the other line.

"It's Minnie. I was just with the Myers boy," Mrs. Blankenship said.

"How is he?" Wynn asked.

Mrs. Blankenship smiled. "He'll be _perfect_." As she spoke, she turned her hand around to look at the symbol tattooed on her wrist: a vertical line, with two diagonal lines jutting out of it to form a sideways triangle.

The Mark of Thorn.

* * *

><p><strong>Poor Edith doesn't know what she's gotten her son into!<strong>

**Thank you to Critias48, Lauren Kassidy, domo2010, miss. twilightprincess, and Guest for your reviews!**


	6. Finally

**November 1961**

Ever since his birth, Michael had been the primary focus of Donald and Edith's attention. But that spring Edith discovered she was pregnant again, and the focus was suddenly shifted from Michael to the new baby. Cynthia Myers was born that August, to Judith's delight. She was glad she would have a little sister to play with instead of her "weirdo" brother.

Michael and Serena began preschool that autumn. Of course, the vivacious Serena fit in right away, but unsurprisingly Michael was more of a problem. He still hadn't begun speaking by his fourth birthday, and his teacher was seriously concerned about him. He was advanced in terms of reading and comprehension far past what the other children were doing, but nothing could get him to speak. "It's unnatural, how off-putting that little boy is," the teacher often said. "I feel sorry for Mr. and Mrs. Myers."

Michael's refusal to speak and general peculiarity prompted bullying from the older students. A group of first-graders often followed him home from school, shouting taunts and threats at him. He bore it all quietly, with seemingly no reaction. In fact, he seemed not to even notice the bullies in the first place.

At first, Serena tried to get them to stop by shouting at them, but when they began bullying her as well Edith arranged for Judith to walk the two children home after school—the bullies wouldn't dare try anything with a fifteen-year-old around. However, Edith hadn't taken Judith's hatred of the task into account, and so she was always late, if she even showed up at all.

So far, the bullies had been content with verbal insults, but one day in late November Michael was shoved to the ground by one of them. While the boys laughed, he calmly got to his feet and walked away. When they realized they weren't getting the reaction they wanted, one hurled a rock at him. It bounced off his back and he continued walking, undaunted.

"Hey!" an angry voice yelled. The boys and Michael turned to see Serena running toward them, her dark hair falling out of its braids and her face red with anger. "Stop it!" she shouted.

"What are you going to do about it?" one of the bullies retorted. "You're just a _girl_."

"_So_?" Serena asked indignantly. "Go away!"

"Make us!" a second one laughed, grabbing one of her braids and tugging hard on it. She wailed, trying to pry his hands away.

"I'm going to tell on you," she threatened. "You'll get into a lot of trouble!"

One of the boys yanked on Serena's hair so hard she fell to the ground and started to cry. The principal, undoubtedly hearing the commotion, appeared at one of the windows. The boys immediately scattered, leaving her sobbing and rubbing away the dirt on her dress.

"Serena," an unfamiliar voice said from beside her. Sniffling, she looked up and immediately stopped crying when she saw Michael was standing next to her.

"Did you _talk?"_ she asked in amazement. Michael nodded. "But I thought—I thought you didn't know how!"

"I do," he said. "I just didn't want to until now."

Serena got clumsily to her feet and stared through red-rimmed eyes at him. "You sound like a grownup," she accused. It was true—Michael pronounced each word perfectly and his voice sounded polished and mature, very unlike children of his age. "Have you ever talked to anyone before?"

"Only to animals," he replied. "Let's go."

Serena followed him out of the playground and to the bench where they usually met with Judith. But today, there was no one in sight. "She's not coming," Serena said unhappily. "Why does she hate us?"

"She hates me," Michael corrected. "She always has."

Serena stuck her lower lip out, pouting. "We're not supposed to walk home alone," she told him. "What now?"

"We'll go home anyway," he said matter-of-factly and began walking away.

Not wanting to be left by herself, Serena jumped up and ran after him. "But I'm not allowed to cross the street!"

Michael frowned at her. "So? Nobody will find out."

Looking scared, she slipped her hand into Michael's and the two children walked back home, oblivious to the fact that Mrs. Blankenship had heard their entire conversation and was relating every word back to Terence Wynn.

* * *

><p>That night at dinner, Michael astonished his family. It started off like every other night: Judith was eating whilst painting her nails, Donald was watching TV, and Edith was trying to feed three-month-old Cynthia, who kept spitting the baby formula back out.<p>

"Did you pick up Michael and Serena from school today?" Donald asked his eldest daughter absent-mindedly, not looking away from the screen.

Judith opened her mouth to lie, but Michael beat her to it. "No," he said.

Everyone went silent at his words. Donald stared, Judith dropped her bottle of nail polish, Edith whirled around, and even Cynthia stopped crying. "M—Mikey?" Edith asked, her hand over her mouth. "Was that you?"

"My name isn't Mikey," he said, fixing his black eyes on her. "It's Michael."

"Oh, _honey_," Edith choked, reaching out her arms to him. "I knew this day would come. I _knew _it."

"Congratulations, weirdo," Judith said sarcastically. "You've finally joined the rest of the world."

"Stop it," Donald warned her. He got off the couch and pulled up the chair next to Michael. "Now, son, how long have you known how to talk?"

"A long time," Michael answered. "I didn't feel like it before."

"Did you pick him up after school?" Edith asked Judith.

Scowling, she shook her head. "Steve asked me out on a _date_, Mom! I couldn't say no!"

"Judith Myers, I am sick of your irresponsible attitude," Donald said fiercely. "Two young children were placed in your care, and you failed to even show up. You are grounded until I feel that you've learned your lesson."

Swearing angrily, Judith shoved her chair back and stormed out of the room, shooting Michael a glare full of rage. "I _hate _you," she hissed at him. "You ruin _everything_."

Cynthia began crying loudly again, and Edith tried to calm her while Donald went upstairs to make sure Judith was in her room. Michael kept his head down, but there was no mistaking the triumphant smirk on his face.

* * *

><p><strong>There are only a few more chapters detailing Michael and Serena's childhood left. As you might have noticed, there have been several timeskips in the past chapter or two. I'm just including the events that I feel are the most important.<strong>

**Thank you to shinigami777, Applejax XD, and Luv4RobPattz for your reviews!**


	7. Voices

**December 1962**

If Donald and Edith thought that Michael finally talking meant he was going to develop normally, they were woefully mistaken. If anything, Michael became even more peculiar.

He would speak very occasionally, using only three or four words at a time. Despite this, he never spoke at school or in front of strangers. Edith tried to argue with the teacher that he was, in fact, capable of talking, but this never occurred and her protests were rebuffed. When Michael did talk, however, it was as if the words were coming out of a fully grown adult's mouth. He never stumbled over or repeated his words. Even his voice was smooth, despite its slightly monotone quality. It matched his blank, expressionless eyes.

Another year slowly passed, and Michael turned five. Ingrid and Serena flew back to Los Angeles for Christmas that year, and it didn't escape Edith's notice that Michael became even more withdrawn. He wouldn't react when anyone spoke to him and spent the days in his room. Edith walked in one day and found him sitting on his bed staring over at the Callahans' empty house. She loved her son, but was becoming increasingly worried about him. In fact, she almost wished she could call Ingrid and tell her to keep Serena away from Haddonfield permanently.

Even as a young child, there was never something quite right about Michael. Edith had never forgotten about Wynn, and she suspected he might have something to do about Michael's odd behavior. But she was wrong. Wynn hadn't done anything—yet.

As for Serena, she knew something was off with Michael, but she didn't sense danger as Edith did. Michael was her best friend, and he talked to her more than he talked to anyone else. The adults noticed that he was more animated whenever he was with her, and they hoped she could inject some shred of normality into him. Perhaps if she had been older, things could have been prevented. But as it was, she was still a child, and had no way of knowing what was really happening otherwise.

As soon as she and Ingrid arrived home from their trip, Serena ran over to Michael's house, her skin several shades darker from the hot sun that so very rarely shone on Haddonfield, and rang the doorbell. Judith answered right away. She had just gotten her driver's license and had become slightly more bearable now that she could escape home whenever she wanted to. "Why am I not surprised?" she asked sarcastically before turning around and hollering, "MICHAEL!"

He came walking slowly to the door. Serena waved enthusiastically at him. "Let's go on the swings!" she said.

They went around the back to the miniature playground Donald had built for his children and Serena immediately jumped on a swing. She began swinging higher and higher, shrieking with delight, while Michael sat motionless on his. Serena finally threw jumped off when it was at its highest arc and soared through the air before landing lithely on her feet. Grinning, her messy hair falling out of its ponytail, she ran back to Michael, chattering about her trip. He listened silently and when she was finished she took a breath and asked, "How was your Christmas?"

"Fine," he grunted, taking an old, dried leaf from the snowy ground and shredding it with his fingers.

"How many presents did you get?" Serena prodded.

Michael shrugged. "They got lots more." By _they _meant his sisters. He didn't like mentioning Judith or Cynthia by name.

"Oh, that's sad," replied Serena. She kicked off from the swing, watching her legs swing back and forth.

After a minute of silence, Michael spoke up. "Do you ever hear voices?"

"Voices?" she asked, baffled.

"In your head, telling you to do things." His dark eyes watched her closely.

Serena shook her head. "No. What do they tell you?"

"To kill people," he muttered. She gasped.

"Michael, you should tell—"

"No!" he said, looking nervous for the first time. "They'll send me away. They already think there's something wrong with me. But it's _them_. Not me."

Serena leapt off the swing and gripped onto the edge of the slide as if it was a lifeline. "Have they ever told you to kill me?"

Michael shook his head. "They tell me to kill people I don't like."

"That's bad," she said furiously. "I think you should tell your mommy and daddy."

"Promise me you won't tell them, Serena," Michael said. "Please." She frowned, but eventually nodded. His brow evened out and he was back to being his usual stoic self, leaving Serena to run away in fear.

* * *

><p>Of course, Serena being the talker she was, something eventually had to slip, and unfortunately it occurred while she was being babysat by Mrs. Blankenship. Ingrid was working late, and the Myers's had gone to watch a movie. There had been no other choice but to leave Serena with the elderly woman.<p>

She happily played with Damian for a while, Mrs. Blankenship watching her over her knitting. When Serena got bored of the cat and started searching for something else to do, the old lady beckoned her up to the couch. "How is Michael, sweetheart?" she asked, her kind expression masking the coldness in her eyes.

"Good, I guess," Serena shrugged. But she fidgeted on the couch, desperate to tell someone her secret. After a minute of apparent internal struggling she burst out, "He said he hears voices!"

This piqued Mrs. Blankenship's interest. She set aside her knitting and put a gnarled hand on Serena's shoulder. "What kind of voices?"

"He says they tell him to—to kill people he doesn't like," Serena whispered. "I'm not supposed to tell anyone."

"Don't worry, dear, your secret is safe with me," Mrs. Blankenship lied. "When did he tell you about this?"

"Yesterday," confided Serena. "I'm scared he'll try to kill me or Mommy."

"Oh, I don't think he'll do that," the woman tried to comfort her. "He likes you and your mother."

Serena nodded. "Why does he hear the voices?"

Mrs. Blankenship's grip tightened on the child. "Sometimes people are born…different," she said slowly. "Michael is very special."

Serena's expression gradually relaxed. "So I'm safe?"

"Yes, I think you are." _For now._

She ran off happily, worry instantly forgotten. The next day, Mrs. Blankenship received a letter from Wynn. All the note said was: _It's almost time._

And so it was. Edith Myers would never know what hit her.

* * *

><p><strong>Thank you to my reviewers shinigami777, JudasISevil, Guest, SammiRichGurl, Guest, and bleachTHEsky!<strong>

**Now, there are only more two chapters left of Michael and Serena's childhood, and then the story will skip forward two decades. I hope you don't mind, but I'm looking forward to concentrating on Serena as an adult. I'm going to try to include as many canon characters as I can, but it will quickly turn AU-you'll see what I'm talking about once you get to those parts! Also, as the story progresses, I might change the rating to M. Hopefully that won't be too much of an inconvenience to any of you.**

**Lastly, (I'm sorry for the long author's note; I didn't intend for it to be this long) I hope Serena isn't coming off as too Mary Sue-ish. Please let me know what you think of her and if I should make any changes to her character. Reviews are loved! :)**


	8. No Going Back

**All right. I apologize for the six-month wait, and I was determined to update so everyone would know that this isn't abandoned!**

**Thank you to my reviewers from last chapter: Sam0728, LotsOf1magination, bleachTHEsky, SammiRichGurl, Luv4RobPattz, shinigami777, Guest, Critias48, kaseyisanonymous, Guest, alyssalot, MyersgirlxXx, Guest, The One and Only Harry Potter, Selena, AnnaMNR, VeeandreaHart, WEUSTHEY, ThePhantomismyLove, CuteSango07, and AngelofAnime97! :)**

* * *

><p><strong>October 1963<strong>

"Happy birthday, Michael!" Serena shrieked as soon as she saw him that day. She grinned happily as she threw her arms around him, eager to give him her present.

It was Michael's sixth birthday, and Serena had spent all morning making chocolate cupcakes, her present for him. Of course, Ingrid had helped her, but Serena liked to think she had done all the work.

They were now in first grade, and Michael still hadn't become any less peculiar. Aside from him and Serena being thick as thieves, he was still cold and emotionless to everyone else, even his parents. Donald and Edith had tried to bring him to a psychologist in Chicago several times, but even the most reputable doctors were just as stunned as they were. However, with two other children, Michael couldn't be their main focus all the time, and so they had stopped trying to force him to be "normal."

Meanwhile, despite their insistence that they would administer the curse as soon as possible, Wynn and Dr. Bonham still had yet to come to an agreement. Wynn was often busy with his work at Smith's Grove, and they were waiting for a perfect time to get to Michael.

But today, on his birthday, everything had aligned. Wynn, Dr. Bonham, and Mrs. Blankenship had gathered at her house, and she'd reported that Michael and Serena were playing outside. The three of them were currently standing in the woods behind the Myers house, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

"So what do you wanna play?" Serena asked as she plopped down on the frozen grass in their backyard, smiling up at him.

He shrugged and stared down at her, as if waiting for her to respond. "It's your birthday," Serena said impatiently. "It's your turn to pick!"

"I don't care," Michael replied.

"Oh, come on, don't be a spoilsport!" she told him. "Fine, let's play hide-and-seek."

When he nodded, she sighed in relief. "Okay, I'll hide," she instructed. "Count to ten—no cheating!" Serena picked herself up off the grass and ran into the woods, despite years of Ingrid telling her not to, and found a perfect tree to climb up. She pulled herself onto the first branch and crouched there, knowing that Michael would find her anyway. He was the best at hide-and-seek.

But she hadn't been there for long when she heard the crunch of leaves under her. Thinking that Michael had shown up already, Serena sighed and prepared to jump down—but instead of seeing her best friend, she saw a tall, white-haired man staring up at her.

She screamed and leapt to the next branch, but it wouldn't support her weight and she came crashing down to the ground. A sickening pain shot through her arm and she began to sob, still trying to crawl away from the man.

"Michael!" she screamed. "Help!"

The white-haired man clapped a hand over her mouth, but Serena continued to scream bloody murder, twisting and thrashing in his grip. It wasn't long before Michael came to her rescue and the man let go of her.

"Run," Michael yelled at her, and it terrified her. She had never seen him show any sort of emotion before.

"No, I want to help you!" Serena called back. Michael shook his head frantically, and she saw other people begin to emerge from behind him.

Determined to get help, she turned and fled from the woods, her arm still clutched against her side. She burst into the Myers house, face red and tears still streaking down her face.

"What's wrong, dear?" Edith asked right away, enfolding the little girl in her arms.

In choking sobs, Serena explained what had happened. Edith went pale, and immediately rushed into the backyard to look for Michael. But he and the strange men were nowhere to be seen.

Hearing the commotion, Ingrid came rushing over, and seeing the state of Serena's arm, brought her to the hospital while Edith called the police.

They searched for Michael for the rest of the day, but he wasn't found. Of course, Edith and Ingrid strongly suspected that Wynn had something to do with it, but Serena's description of the men was too vague and the police had nothing to go on.

It was determined that Serena's arm was broken and she would have to stay in bed for the next couple of weeks. That night, Serena lay staring out the window, crying again. She knew it was her fault that Michael had been taken—if she hadn't suggested playing hide-and-seek, then nothing would have happened and he would still be safe.

She had just started to drift off to sleep, completely exhausted from the day's events, when she heard a soft tapping at her window. Serena's eyes snapped open and she slowly climbed out of bed, holding her sling close to her, and saw Michael standing below in the yard. He'd been throwing a rock at the window as a way to get her attention.

Serena immediately ran downstairs, being careful not to wake Ingrid, and opened the back door to let Michael in. She threw her good arm around him, beginning to cry, but he pushed her away.

"What did they do to you?" she demanded. He looked a bit paler than usual, but nothing had changed. His clothes weren't even dirty or ripped in the least.

"I don't know," Michael whispered. "I can't remember." His dark eyes suddenly widened in the light, and he reached out to grip her shoulder tightly. "Serena," he whispered, his eyes searching her face, "You have to help me."

"What do you mean?" she asked, briefly forgetting to whisper. Michael immediately clapped his hand over her mouth.

"I feel…different," he told her. "I can't explain it…"

"Tell your parents," Serena suggested, and she jumped back as his eyes narrowed into slits at the mention of his family.

"_No_," he snarled, and she cowered away from him, alarmed. When he saw that he'd frightened her, he immediately looked guilty.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I just…I don't know what's wrong with me."

"Michael, you have to tell—" Serena said, but just then she saw the light upstairs flicker on. "Mommy's coming!" she gasped. "You have to leave!"

Michael didn't need telling twice—he was out the back door just as Ingrid came downstairs.

"Serena, what are you doing out of bed?" she demanded.

"Sorry, Mommy. I was just really hungry," Serena lied.

"Well, you can have some crackers, but that's it," Ingrid said as she put a hand on her daughter's hair and led her back upstairs.

Serena twisted around to see if Michael was still hiding somewhere, but he was gone.

* * *

><p><span><strong>UPDATE MARCH 2014: <strong>**This fic is now officially abandoned. Sorry, guys, but sometimes life happens and you become interested in writing other things...I can guarantee you that it didn't have a happy ending. (I knew all along that Serena would eventually be killed by Michael. I wish I didn't have to spoil it this way and leave off right in the middle of a scene, but I don't think either you, the reader, or I as the writer, would enjoy it if the story were to continue). Again, I offer my deepest apologies.**


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